


What We Do

by pashspice



Category: Barry (TV 2018)
Genre: Be gentle, F/M, First Post, Not Canon Compliant, Shameless Smut, Smut, break up with your girlfriend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 06:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21192860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pashspice/pseuds/pashspice
Summary: LA is great, and Barry really does want to be an actor. He also needs someone who understands there’s more to him than that, even if it’s just for one night.





	What We Do

**Author's Note:**

> hiiiiii I hope this is tolerable

Barry wanted to love Sally, he really did. And there was a time early on when he thought he had, but he was beginning to believe that was just... disillusion, being in love with the idea of love. The more she droned on and on about auditions and agents and scripts and acting, the less relatable he found her. He needed something more, someone dark like him. He needed someone who turned off the lights and stared at the ceiling every night, regretting the decisions of their past. Maybe that person could understand there were two sides to him. 

One night he couldn’t take laying in her bed anymore and snuck out to a bar. It was almost three in the morning, but the place was much busier than he’d imagined. He had barely taken a sip from his drink when a dark haired woman slid onto the stool next to his and asked “What’s a handsome guy like you doing here all alone?”

“What? Oh, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Yeah? I don’t sleep much either, at least not at night.” 

The longer this woman sat and stared at him, almost like she was trying to learn his secrets without asking him a single question, the more unnerving it was. It gave him time to observe her as well, however, and he wasn’t disappointed. Her body looked like something Playboy would pay a lot of money to have featured in its pages. She was soft everywhere, incredibly curvy, and he had to force his eyes back up to her face. 

“Quiet type, hmm? I’m Pasha. Want to buy me a drink?” 

“Pasha? What is that, Russian?” 

“More like a nickname, really.”

“Oh. I’m Barry. I can, uh... I can get you a drink if you want, sure. What kind?” 

“Mm... tequila sunrise. Thanks, cutie.” Her hand slid to his thigh and gave him a slow pet through his jeans, and his eyes flicked straight down to her touch, then up to her face. No one was this flirtatious with him, not even his girlfriend. Did she want something? Was this a trap? Fuck, her nickname was Pasha. Chechens. Hank couldn’t have come up with something like this, his plans were all idiotic. He supposed the idea of a woman this attractive ever wanting to lay a finger on him was indeed a little moronic, though. 

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” As she slowly sipped her drink from her stirring straw and gazed up at him between slow blinks of her long lashes, he huffed through his nose and bitterly ran his tongue along his teeth. “So how do you know Hank?” 

“Who?” 

“Hank. He’s Chechen. Probably gave you your nickname.”

“My mom started calling me Pasha when I was a kid. My name is Natasha and she always called me Tasha, then Tasha Pasha, and somewhere along the line it just became Pasha. Then in high school there was another Tasha, so Pasha kinda stuck.” His eyes were drifting all over her body again, but he was listening. Multitasking was one of his many talents, and practically a necessity when dealing with Sally. She talked so much he had to adapt, had to learn how to focus on writing or reading or even just making a sandwich while still catching enough of her words to be able to give her a response that was attentive enough to avoid pissing her off. Then she really rambled. 

“Where’d you go to school?”

“I grew up near Chicago. Moved here when I was seventeen. How about you?” 

“Oh, uhhh, Cleveland. I just moved here a couple years ago.” He swallowed a longer drink of his beer and licked his lips, then scanned her features again and took a shot at something vaguely flirty. This wasn’t his game. “You’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you, Barry.” Her gaze softened as their eyes locked, but he knew it wasn’t the first time she’d ever heard that before. Or the second. Or the hundredth. “You’re sexy.”

Guess there really is a first time for everything. He couldn’t help raising his eyebrows when that sentence came out of her mouth. His eyes remained fixed on her face, even though her hand was starting to softly stroke along the inside of his thigh. She might have been the best actress he’d ever met in his life. Fuck, the last thing he needed was another actress around. “What do you do again?” 

The pause she took after his question was the first time she’d seemed uneasy since they started talking. Her posture straightened and she cleared her throat softly before answering “I’m a model.” It wasn’t like the idea was implausible to him. Maybe she was one of those Instagram models who traveled all over just to post pictures of herself wearing bikinis in random locations. But he read people for a living, even their silence, and he knew she was lying. 

“I’m an actor.” He’d never felt more seen than the moment when she looked at him with a knowing smile. It was almost like she was trying not to laugh. “Do you want to get out of here?” 

Those lashes blinked at him again as she nodded, and he felt a knot in his stomach. He’d never cheated on anyone before. Of course, he would have had to have a girlfriend to do that, and Sally was his first. 

One step at a time. He paid their bill, grabbed his hoodie, and set a hand on the small of her back to guide her toward the door. The next step was getting her in his car, then into his apartment. He paused in the kitchen to take off his hoodie and looked around the room, debating offering her a drink. 

Before he could part his lips to say anything, she sauntered over to him and nudged her body right into his chest. “Hi Barry.” His wide eyes rapidly scanned her features, but he was otherwise nearly frozen like a deer in headlights. The beautiful creature in front of him seemed unfazed. 

He barely breathed “Hi.” back to Pasha before her hands touched his face and brought him down for a thick kiss. Her touch dropped to his neck and he felt her long nails scratch in the back of his hair as his brow furrowed with pleasure and, instantly, a switch flipped within him.

His hands grasped her waist and held her tight as his tongue searched her mouth, and she meeped with desire. The drag of her nails over his chest made his skin catch fire, even through his t-shirt. When her fingers caught up in the material and used it to bring him along with her as she walked backwards toward the living room, he growled in his throat and dropped his palms to her ass. 

She really was soft everywhere, and it had the opposite effect on his body. His muscles were tensed and his dick was rock hard before they ever made it to the couch. Her hands seemed desperate to unfasten his jeans and reach into them, which made no sense. How could a woman this beautiful be so needy? Surely someone was taking care of her. 

The second he sat down, she climbed into his lap and kissed him again. As he slid her skirt up past the round curve of her ass, she murmured little sounds of encouragement into his lips, continuing to stroke him until the very last second. 

When he pushed into her, everything stopped. She felt tight but she was soaked, and he hadn’t even touched her. With Sally, he sometimes went down on her for what felt like forever, only to have her sigh “Just try it now.” It was almost like she was attracted to him as a person, someone she thought was innocent and damn near pure outside of his war stories, without being physically attracted to him as a man. She believed he was a safe option. 

This girl, Pasha, seemed hungry for every inch of him. In fact, she kept wiggling her hips to try and take him in as deeply as she possibly could, and it was killing him. His hands sat rested on her hips as he watched her work on his length and drop her head back with her delicious sounding moans. Then she caught her hair in her fingers and looked straight into his eyes. “Don’t be afraid to fuck me.” 

He felt a surge in his dick, and chewed on his bottom lip while staring back at her. His mouth was red from how he always bit down to keep from making too many sex noises, but hers was red from her lipstick, and her lips were swollen from being kissed so hard. After drinking her in from her hair to where he was buried inside of her, he blinked his hazy blue gaze back up to hers. “How hard.”

“Mmf. As hard as you want. You have a big cock.” There was no pause for reflection this time. Her voice was like music to his ears, and her body was begging to be touched. There was a flurry of motion, and within seconds, he had her shirt off and her bra cups tucked under her tits, though he wasn’t touching them. Instead, his hands were in the back of her long hair, pulling tight as his hips roughly knocked into hers. 

He just wanted to watch her tits bounce, and he selfishly stared at them while gritting his teeth. He’d never once had sex like this before. It almost hurt, but fuck, it felt incredible. The only other time he’d ever felt this focused and present was when he had a gun in his hand. His eyes dropped to watch her swallow him between her thighs, over and over again, until she whined “Barry, make me come.” 

Fuck. He was usually better at doing that with his tongue than his dick, but he wasn’t totally clueless. He had a feeling that even if he had been, this gorgeous creature would have just purred that it was okay, and told him what she wanted. Even now, without being prompted, she scratched her nails down his forearm and wrapped her hand around his wrist, then moved his hand to her throat. 

Choking, again? Really??? Why the fuck did everyone want him to choke them? In any other scenario, he would have made some snarky remark about it, or flat out denied the request, but he couldn’t resist. He didn’t want to. All he wanted to do was make this woman a writhing mess. The slightest tightening of his fingers made her whimper, and he knew she wanted more. 

He clamped down harder, and coordinated it with a rough yank to the back of her hair by his other hand. Her muscles fluttered around his dick as she squeaked with delight, and he knew he was going to chase that feeling every time he fucked her. After nipping at her shoulder, he tilted his head to moan against her ear. “Fuck. Come for me. I want to watch you suck it off my cock.”

He ached through every second of her pussy clamping down onto him like she never wanted him to pull out again, and his facial features showed just how much he was straining to keep from letting loose inside of her. It wasn’t like he was thinking about knocking her up or not wanting to get stains on his couch. That would have involved being able to think straight. He just wanted to see this girl on her knees. 

Her eyes were glazed over when she dismounted him, and he almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no hesitation whatsoever, just this eager little slut licking her own juices off his dick. His hips pushed toward her face and his hands tightly held onto her hair for the few passes it took her to drain him. Even once he had sort of collapsed back against the couch with heavy breathing, she was still sitting on her knees between his legs, slowly licking and kissing his most sensitive skin. 

“Fuck, Pasha.” That was all he could manage for a minute, then he finally sighed a “Stop.” He watched through heavy lidded eyes as she stood up while fixing her bra. He was surprised she sat down next to him, much less that she rested her head on his shoulder, but it was nice. Her hair smelled like coconut. As he looked her over again, he wondered if she tasted like it, too. 

They sat in exhausted silence for a moment, just trying to catch their breath. Then she said something in a scratchy and sleepy sounding tone that nearly made his dick hard again, though the rest of his body wasn’t ready to cooperate yet. The words were simple - “I’m not a model.” - and weren’t a trigger themselves, but she fucking was. 

“I’m not an actor. I mean, I’m in a class, but it’s not what I do for a living.” 

“You first.” 

He looked down and saw her pretty face smiling up at him, and the attraction in her eyes made him back off. There was no way he could tell her what he really did, no matter how desperate he was to have a relationship with someone who really knew every part of him. “I think you should start.”

“Ugh, okay.” She thought for a moment, then asked “Can I have some water?” He nodded and stood up, fixing his clothes on his tall frame as he made his way into the kitchen to grab two glasses. Once he sat back down and they both had taken a few sips, she sighed and licked her lips. “I’m a stripper.” 

“Yeah?” His features remained unchanged as he studied hers, and she told him her story. She moved here because her parents had died and other family members were in the area, but once she was here, she found herself on her own and struggling to keep up. An “agent” had promised to make her a model, then coerced her into sleeping with him, then coerced her into sleeping with his friends, all while promising these men would make her successful. She was young and desperate enough she felt she had no choice. The modeling gigs he did get her were mostly for internet porn, barely legal girls made to look even younger, and usually ended with her blowing the agent or one of his friends. 

Eventually she told the man she wouldn’t do those kinds of jobs anymore, and he said it was fine, but then he stopped booking her for anything at all. She was twenty then, and already felt like she’d been spit up and washed out by an entire industry. Waiting tables didn’t pay the rent, so... she compromised. 

His blue eyes nearly looked black by the time she was finished. Maybe he shouldn’t have come to LA at all. Women were nothing but sex slaves to predatory men here, and it wasn’t the way he was raised. Guilt washed over him for the way he had fucked her, and she must have read it on his face. “I wanted it with you.” 

His tongue pressed against his cheek as he stared down at her, and he huffed through his nose while nodding once. He had wanted to kill Sam for Sally at one point, and now he wanted to kill every single motherfucker who had laid a hand on Pasha. “Okay.” After a moment, he asked “Are you safe?” and she laughed quietly while curling her arms up around his bicep. 

“As safe as I can be, I guess. It is what it is. There are definitely hazards.” 

His mind raced, and he dropped his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He could protect her, could even avenge her past. There was no question about that. But how much could he share with a woman he met an hour ago? And why the fuck did he bring her back to his apartment, where his girlfriend could walk in at any moment?

“I was in the Marines.” 

“Mm. Explains the biceps and the shoulders.” He glanced down and saw her smiling to herself as she gave his arm a little squeeze, and it sent a surge of warmth through his body. It was a combination of arousal and genuine affection. 

“I guess. So um... yeah, I came back from Afghanistan and had no idea what to do with myself, you know? I was a sniper. That was all I was really trained to do.” 

“Not much market for that on monster.com.”

“Ha, no. This guy, Fuches, he-“ Barry cut himself off, realizing even that name was more than he had shared with anyone else. Pasha waited patiently at his side, her hand petting up and down his arm. She dropped a little kiss to his shoulder that made him feel like it was okay, that he could stop talking without making her upset or keep telling her his story, and he muttered “Fuck.” but pressed on. “He set me up with a couple of hit jobs. Little shit at first, small time drug dealer battles. As he made more and more connections, I got in deeper and deeper shit. Mafias, fucking... overthrowing drug lords, millions of dollars in stash houses.” 

He swallowed thinking about the job that ended with him killing Chris, but he couldn’t unload everything on her at once. Fuck, he didn’t even know if he’d already said too much. Maybe she was going to run for the hills. Maybe she was going to run to the cops. How the fuck would he kill a woman who sucked his dick like that? 

Waiting for some kind of a response was torture, but when he finally got one, the wave of relief that washed over him was unlike anything he had ever felt. The closest he’d ever been was when he told Cousineau the real story of why he was discharged. All this beautiful woman said was “I’m sorry. That must be a lot of weight to carry around.” 

His blue eyes were crisp with color when their gazes locked, but they were beginning to water. She had no fucking idea. That wasn’t even the half of it. Her hand caressed his cheek and trailed down his jaw, and she craned up to give him a slow and pouty kiss. His arms wrapped around her tightly and he hid his face in her hair, breathing in that coconut scent and letting it calm him down. 

“I have to get some rest before work, but I really want to see you again.” He pictured men trying to grab her, trying to force her face into their laps during dances, and his fingers briefly tightened against her skin. They loosened as she nudged her face into his neck and kissed him there. 

“Yeah, you will. What time are you done? I’ll pick you up, make sure you get home okay.” The charmed look in her eyes said she didn’t need a babysitter, but she answered him anyway with the name of her club and what time her shift ended. He saved the place in his GPS on his phone and thought about how much time he was going to start spending there. Yes, he would watch over the men and possibly beat the shit out of anyone who overstepped with her, but he would also watch her. He suspected she’d be hard to tear his eyes away from. 

He walked her to the door and after another slow kiss, she gazed up at him and he couldn’t believe that the look in her eyes hadn’t changed a bit. She was still attracted to him, still wanted to get to know him. And her parting words would probably sit with him for the rest of his life, whether they continued seeing each other or not. 

“Plenty of good people have shitty jobs, Barry. We won’t be stuck doing this forever. Besides, our jobs don’t define us, right? They’re just what we do, not who we are.” He gave her a hint of a pressed smile and she snuck in one last kiss, then threw her bag over her shoulder and walked away. Halfway down the hall, she turned back to see if he was still watching, and the way her hair swung out around her was like a dream. “See you at 4:00?” 

He nodded silently and held a hand up in a still wave, then stepped back into his apartment. As the door was shutting, he heard the elevator open and Pasha casually say “Hello.” as she was stepping on. He was seated on the couch by the time his door opened, and he watched Sally set her things down in a tizzy. Her features were scrunched up and her distaste was obvious. 

“I just saw this woman in the hallway who looked like she was leaving a low rent casting couch porn. Big stilettos and everything. Maybe you should look into that, you know? What if people come here and recognize it from the internet?” 

“How are they going to tell me they recognize it without admitting they watched it?” His features remained relatively still how they almost always did, and she shrugged her shoulders in her aloof way while opening cabinet doors in search of something to eat for breakfast. Her energy was anxious enough that he could guess she had an audition without her saying it. 

“Where did you go last night? I woke up and you were gone.” 

“Here. I couldn’t sleep, but I didn’t want to wake you. I haven’t been to sleep yet, actually.” His hands rubbed at his eyes as she impatiently ranted about how she needed a ride, needed to be able to rely on him, and he scratched at the side of his face as he cut her off. “I’m exhausted, Sally. I need to go to bed.”

He stood up and walked straight to bed, stripping himself of his shirt and jeans before he crawled under the covers, and he heard her react with frustration clear from the kitchen. 

“Barry, what the fuck!”


End file.
